A handsome crowd came in their finest to offer support and vocal encouragement to their little darlings, except for Rosie Barrieclough, who arrived wearing an extra-large T-shirt and leggings – thereby bagging first prize in the Sack Race.

Hastily turning their people-carrier around, they traced their steps back from the Poppleton ring road to Gawthrop Farm, Little Sniffy. They went to the llama field – her favourite. No, she wasn’t there. They looked around the sheep enclosure, but no, she wasn’t there either. Nor was she picking fruit or spinning wool. So, once more into the Maize Maze they went.

It was probably closer to half an hour before they found her, sitting crossed-legged, right at the centre, a seraphic smile on her face, having conquered the labyrinthine vortex.

Up in the attic she’d found King James’ bible, and having blown the dust off it, she opened it up to discover a world of Elders, going back generations. And against each of their names, they’d given their trade: coppiceman, carpenter, thatcher…